The King and the Butler
by DWAR
Summary: What happens when the King of the Crossroads realizes that there's a Demon making contracts that don't adhere to his strict guidelines? This is a story that seeks to find out.
1. Chapter 1

Though he knew that his business practices was mocked by his fellows as nothing more than bean counting, the former Scotsman knew that his methods were perhaps the perfect way to survive in an ever changing world.

Yes they lacked the ambitious planning of the yellow eyed bastard who was always searching for a way to spring 'daddy dearest' from his box.

And yes, they lacked the aspect of audience participation that Alistar had turned into a bloody art form.

But he ran his domain with 2 rules that no being, be they angel or demon, could deny.

The universe was built on the concept of give and take, and that the taker will always receive a reward that is work more than they can give.

Before he assumed his current position as King of the Crossroads, the amount of souls coming in from his department where, unimpressive to say the least. And they weren't exactly souls that were worth bragging about.

Most of them were already bound for the Pit, but the deals merely ensured that they would get there much sooner than originally planned.

But of course, he was different, and that was what allowed him the chance to move up through Hell's ranks.

For not only did he have a perfect record of making a deal every time he was summoned, but the quality of souls ensured that he got noticed.

It was rather ironic really, that a soul that would have been welcome in Heaven, was dragged off to Hell because of their sacrificial nature. But regardless if they had been a mother bargaining for the life of her disease ridden children, or a man who wished to see his village survive the winter after their store of food had been stolen, once they made the deal, their chances of entering the land of those sanctimonious winged bastards literally went up in smoke.

Of course, once he assumed the rather amusing, if slightly misnamed title of King of the Crossroads, he had to put in a great deal of effort in order to get his division of Hell operating to his standards.

It had been tedious, and he had stained more than one well tailored outfit with the blood of some unruly underling, but in the end he had succeeded in his plans.

His red eyed boys and girls had boosted consumer confidence by following the principle of allowing their…clients 10 years to enjoy whatever it was they traded their soul for.

He was quietly, and discreetly gaining all sorts of information and items that would HOPEFULLY allow him to survive the Apocalypse if Azazel ever managed to free the fallen Archangel from his box.

And perhaps most importantly, or at least the one in which not even his most vocal critics could complain about, like Yellow Eye's bitch of a daughter, he managed to end a long standing feud between the forces of Hell and those who somehow escaped a more….interactive punishment for their misdeeds.

It had taken some doing, for most of those spectacle wearing bastards, who for the most part acted like they had iron rods up the jacksey, wanted nothing to do with any card carrying member of the Pit, but in the end he had pulled it off.

In exchange for doing away with the practice of stealing every random soul that took their fancy, Demons would be largely left alone by those whose job it was to both catalogue, and escort the mortal soul to their destination.

But every now and again, the red eyed demon would be forced to deal with the nuisance of having a Demon who refused to adhere to the structure that now dictated how they were to deal with humans.

For the most part, they were rather simple problems to solve since the majority of those who broke his rules possessed levels of intelligence that was somewhat lacking. And like the rabid dogs they were, it was quite easy for him to put down.

The rarer problems he had to deal with, and the ones that caused him the most headaches, were the ones who used his philosophy of 'make a deal, keep it' to their own advantage. For instead of securing a soul that would be turned into another black eyed member of the pit, these demons tended to keep the souls to themselves.

Such a practice had long been looked down on by the ranking denizens of hell, though for reasons that had to do more with fear rather than disgust.

For the process of ingesting a human soul possessed the ability to double the power of a demon, which not only deprived Hell from acquiring yet mindless follower, but also caused unnecessary purging of the ranks.

For such a method, if done regularly enough, could result in a demon gaining enough power to not successfully challenge Yellow Eyes, and the more sadistic white eyed demons who lacked the foresight/opportunity to properly govern Hell, but also the feathered followers of Heaven.

To that end, whenever Azazel discovered that a lowly demon had taken the shortest method to obtain power, the demon in question, along with hundreds of his fellows, would find themselves experiencing a rather extended period of time on the rack, with Alistar and his apprentices enjoying the opportunity to advance their development of weapons that could make even the most hardened demon quiver with fear.

And since a demon could only gain ownership over a human soul if they made a deal, it was usually his 'department' that found itself with a sudden decrease in trained personnel.

Thankfully, now that he had obtained the title of King of the Crossroads, such occurrences were now largely a thing of a past. And while the occasional rumor of rouge demon's reached his ear, he easily dismissed them since no one under his authority would dare to violate the rules he set forth.

And if by some chance he discovered such a thing, well then, that's what the hounds were for.

…

 **Hello All.**

 **Hopefully you all enjoyed this brief chapter of my new story. The idea's been bouncing around in my head for a while now, so...this is the result XD.**

 **Story will take place JUST after the Book of Circus, but before the events of Book of Murder.**

 **And of course, taken some 'creative liberties' to meld the world of Supernatural with Black Butler. There are not enough Crowley Stories out there, at least those where he's the smug bastard we all know and love, so this is my story to help rectify that/inspire more.**

 **Unsure of when next update will be, I do have other stories XD...but feel free to review since your words helps to shape my ideas XD.**

 **No flames or grammer Nazis please =)**

 **Til next time**


	2. Chapter 2

Despite his well known aversion to performing job related tasks after his shift had ended, the head of Britain's Grim Reaper Dispatch busied himself with a task that was just as loathsome as it was important.

He understood that he would probably receive little recognition from his superiors for performing this bothersome task, but as a Grim Reaper, especially one belonging to the management division, personal feelings were expected to be left out of the equation when it came to the business of reaping souls.

That being said, William couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of satisfaction as he filled the previously blank piece of paper with the information that would hopefully allow him to be rid of one of the more blatant nuisances in his life.

Of course he was certain that if his former exam partner ever learned what he was doing, than he would have to endure a tedious increase in Sutcliff's femine wailing, which he supposed was preferable to dodging his recently approved death scythe, but it was a worthy sacrifice if it meant maintaing the current status quo.

While he had no say in the final terms of the agreement that had been reached with the forces of Hell, for at the time he had yet to ascend to a position that would allow him to use his above average managerial qualities, the Grim Reaper had to admit that it was a vast improvement over the previous way of doings things.

While Demons would continue to offer their wares in exchange for the valuable commodity that was the human soul, as well as the usual butchery that usually occurred when the denizens of hell wished to alleviate their boredom, the manner in which they did so was more regulated, and thus reduced the amount of paper work that usually occurred with demonic interference.

For while those under contract earned a one way ticket to Hell, they also ensured that Grim Reapers did not have to waste much time viewing their cinematic records in order to discover if their continued existence would benefit man kind.

And since he was a great believer in avoiding overtime, which had previously occurred every time a demon decided to consume a soul without making a deal, he had readily approved of this new state of affairs.

Which was why he was currently using up his rather valuable free time drafting a note about a violation of the rules in which Hell had agreed to abide by.

For it was one thing to offer up one's service in exchange for dragging a soul into the pit.

It was quite another to devour it entirely.

And since he probably wasn't the only one who hated having to deal with was a rouge demon enhanced by the power of a freshly obtained soul, he ensured that his letter included his recommendation of what should be done.

…

Watching the departing carriage through the curtains of his current master's study, the demon butler decided to comment on the young earl's decision with his usual charming, if slightly false, smile.

"I must say that your interactions with your fiancé continue to fascinate me my lord. Most humans that I have come across would either take advantage of the interest that is being shown to them by their significant others. And yet despite your repeated desire to remain at arms length, you haven't exactly done anything noteworthy to rob Miss Elizabeth of her visions of a bright future together".

His words causing his youthful contractor to act in his usual way, a glare quickly followed by a scoff, the being currently known as Sebastian Michaelis was largely unsurprised by the nature of his young master's reply.

"While she is somewhat of an annoyance at times, outright rejecting her would cause too many problems. The most significant one being that we would have to deal with the terrifying rampage of a woman who manages to frighten even a demon like you".

Conceding that his master was right to fear the wrath of his more frightening blood relative, though he was confident that he could take her if he was allowed to use the full scope of his abilities, Sebastian gave voice to his agreement.

"I believe you are correct in your assumptions my lord. The Marchioness Midford always struck me as a woman who could not let an insult to her family go unanswered. And since you have ordered me not to reveal my true nature to the diminished numbers of your family, I can safely say that the task of defending you from her wrath would prove difficult for even a devil of a butler".

Earning a rather fierce glare from the child who believed himself a man, the demon butler fought the urge to smirk as his future dinner proceeded to season himself with the delightful spices of anger and grief.

"Shut up. I've already told you I have no interest in talking about those who are gone. And I'll be damned if I have to remind again".

Smiling as he allowed his eyes to briefly reflect his true nature, Sebastian bowed his head in false apology at the eyepatch wearing earl.

"An amusing, if slightly inaccurate turn of phrase my lord. For per the contents of our contract, your soul will never be able to experience the rather intense sensations of damnation, nor will it enjoy the soothing balm of salvation. However I do apologize for broaching a topic that is upsetting to you. I ensure you that it will never happen again unless you wish me too".

Earning the barest of nods from his contractor, who had acted as he usually did when reminded of what he would experience once he had upheld his side of their deal, Sebastian's eyes turned back into their normal brownish red as Ciel sought to move past this little episode in his usual demanding manner.

"Very well. Now, since you're not doing anything useful, go to the kitchen and bring me a snack".

Bowing his head in compliance, Sebastian smiled as he responded with the 3 words that had become almost second nature after having spent the last 3 years catering to the brat who had amusingly adopted the role of the true heir to the Phantomhive name.

"Yes my lord".

…

Though he knew his boss was one of the more…reasonable personalities that ran the most popular destination for dead souls, the red eyed demon knew that if sufficiently annoyed, Crowley could be as cruelly creative with his punishments as any of the demons who apprenticed under Alastair.

For while the King of the Crossroads lacked immediate access to the many tools that broke down a human soul into a demonic cloud of ash, he had proven countless times that he didn't need them due to the fact that he was the demon one went to when one needed the services of a hell hound.

That was how his predecessor lost his position.

For after 1 too many failures, the number being 2 since Crowley recognized that the perfect salesman requires 1 failure in order to learn from, the unfortunate demon had been tossed into the kennel of the mother of the canine race. Needless to say, Ramsey was rather brutal with her new chew toy, whose all too brief screams ensured that the rest of the red eyed demons did their best to stay on their king's good side.

Only problem was, the information the demonic secretary held in his hand meant could very well result in his demise as well.

On principle, Demons and Repears hated each other due to the nature of their jobs. For one was responsible for ensuring the damnation of the human soul, whether through force or by coercion while the other was responsible for ensuring that they got sent to the afterlife that they deserved.

Things were slightly better between the two sides thanks to a series of agreements, but that didn't exactly mean that both sides willingly interacted with each other.

Which meant that the letter in his hand was probably containing information that would be less than pleasant to the King of the Crossroads.

For while he might have been a more reasonable member of the pit, at least when compared to the prince and head torturer, Crowley had little difficulty in shooting the bearer of bad news.

….

 **Think that's enough for now. Yay for getting a second chapter up XD**

 **Anyway, just to (re)clarify, the timeline of this story is just after the Book of Circus, but just before the Book of Murder.**

 **Hopefully you all like the direction I have going so far.**

 **Reviews welcome. Flamers/Grammar Nazis are not (point out if you don't like it, more than willing to accept beta readers to help out)**

 **Until next time...whenever that is XD**


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